


Into the Blue

by Greysgate



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, BDSM, First Time, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-12 23:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: Jack's misstep with an alien tribe forces Daniel to make him pay for the error. With Daniel in command, Jack learns some important lessons about himself and his teammate.





	Into the Blue

**Author's Note:**

> SQUICK-FIC! This story far exceeds my personal squick limits, but I had to write it anyway, because that's how this "author" thing works for me. I follow the Muse and write the stories I'm given, even when they make me uncomfortable or horrified, which this one did. Writing isn't about what makes me happy. It's about going on the journey with my characters and looking my demons in the eye through theirs.

"I can't _do_ this, Jack!" Daniel whispered, glancing around them at the angry faces of their alien captors. 

" _You_ have to, or _they_ will," Jack ground out between clenched teeth. "I trust you not to do so much damage we can't walk out of here. Them… not so much." He nodded at the chieftain in his gaudy paint and feathers, and the pack of brutish henchmen standing at the tribal ruler's sides. 

He offered Daniel his hands, wrists touching, hands clenched in loose fists. "All you have to do is draw a little blood and make a few bruises. Make it look good, and we can go home." 

The bodyguards leveled nasty-looking spears at their two prisoners. 

Jack shot a glance at Carter and Teal'c standing on the sidelines, completely disarmed and on their knees, both looking truly worried, and rightfully so. This was all his fault because he'd misunderstood at the wrong moment and screwed the diplomatic pooch. Enduring a little butt-kicking was the price, and the aliens had been sporting enough to offer the privilege of punishment to one of Jack's people or one of theirs. The choice had been Jack's, but he also knew they had to get it right or they'd all pay with their lives. 

Daniel loosed a frustrated sigh and wrapped the length of rope the chieftain had given him around Jack's wrists, tying the loose ends into a square knot. 

"Tighter," Jack growled. "Gotta make it look like you mean it." 

"Jack!" The tone of his voice and the flash of angry blue eyes said plenty. Daniel _really_ didn't want to do this, but he understood what had to be accomplished, maybe even better than Jack did, since he spoke the tribal lingo. 

"Daniel." There would be no argument here. 

"All _right!_ All right. Just shut up, willya? I've gotta find out what they're expecting. _Exactly."_ Daniel strode purposefully toward the chieftain, had a few quiet words with him, and came back toward his commanding officer with his face set, mouth pressed to a firm, thin line, eyes flashing with leashed rage. 

Daniel was angry with himself, not at Jack. He was blaming himself for this fuck-up, when it wasn't his responsibility at all. He'd been under the influence of one of the tribal party drugs when Jack had shot up the dirt in front of their shaman's feet to warn the other guy off, and it wasn't until a few minutes ago that Daniel had managed to smooth everything out with the tribal ruler. He'd done his job, done everything just right. 

Jack had been the one with the itchy trigger finger. He'd scared these folks, alarmed by their enthusiastic appreciation of Carter's and Daniel's blue eyes, which the aliens had never seen before, and thought they'd meant to _take_ said eyeballs from their owners. That hadn't been the intent at all, but Jack hadn't realized that until after he'd squeezed off a few rounds from his P-90 a few hours earlier. 

Now he had to pay for his mistake. He was willing to take a beating as penance, but not from one of them. The aliens had chosen Daniel as their instrument of justice because he spoke the language and could converse with him directly. Jack was glad it would be his friend dealing the blows. 

"Let's get this over with," Daniel growled, grasping the rope and giving it a tug. 

The shaman led the way toward a narrow opening in a cliff overshadowing the village. He took a lit torch from just beside the entrance and guided them into the passageway, deep into the heart of the mountain. When they arrived at the end of the tunnel, the man stepped into a circular room and began lighting crude lamps and torches hanging on the walls. 

Jack studied him, his dark, cruel eyes and the multitude of scars on his half-naked body, barely disguised by the bright red paint he wore. This was a man who knew pain intimately, and he wouldn't be easily fooled. There would have to be blood, and a lot of it. 

The shaman started pointing out various devices hanging on the walls or lying on a table at the far end of the room, jabbering away at Daniel. There was a large bucket of water at one end and several clean towels neatly folded beside it. Jack eyed the instruments on the table and his guts curdled up. 

He looked down at the floor, stained brown with dried blood. He raised his gaze to the center of the ceiling, and took note of a large blunted hook dangling from a thick sturdy rope, attached to the wall beside the door. That was for stringing people up, preventing them from running around the room. 

This was a torture chamber. 

"I don't think these are folks we want for allies," Jack mused, glancing back at his friend, then meeting the glaring gaze of the shaman. 

"No kidding," Daniel agreed. 

The medicine man said something, pointing at Jack animatedly and moving his hands up and down, indicating Jack's body from feet to neck. 

"He wants you to strip," Daniel translated. 

"Shit," Jack whispered. He stole a glance at the open doorway and was relieved that no one had followed them into the cave. 

Daniel came over and untied his wrists, glancing between his friend and the implements on that table, fear gleaming behind the lenses of his glasses. _"Help_ me, Jack! I don't know where the line is drawn, here. I don't know what he _wants."_

_"Look_ at him, Daniel," Jack said softly, his comments meant only for his friend. "He wants me bleeding and humiliated. I'm not sure there _is_ a line." 

"I don't want to hurt you." There was urgency, pleading in Daniel's voice. He looked so young and innocent, his long hair flopping down into his eyes beneath his Boonie hat, curling up around his collar. 

" _Stop_ that!" Jack ordered. "He may not know what you're saying, but he can hear how you're saying it. If you're gonna make him buy this, you have to take charge right now, be willing to make me pay, _really_ pay, for what he believes I did to him. _That's_ what he wants." 

Immediately, Daniel fell silent. He studied the alien medicine man, then straightened his posture, turned back to Jack and nodded. "Take off your clothes," he snapped, his lips pressing into a thin, tense line. 

Jack could see the reluctance in Daniel's eyes, but his body was saying something else now. He was in command, just as he'd been told to do. In his peripheral vision, Jack saw the shaman's frown soften just a little. 

It didn't take long for Jack to shuck his clothes and step out of his boots and socks. Wearing nothing but his military-issue shorts and dog tags, he made eye contact with the shaman and waited to see if that was good enough, but the witch doctor glanced down at his underwear, then back into his eyes. 

Apparently, the dog tags were okay to keep. 

When Jack was naked, the shaman gathered up his clothes, gave a final sharply-spoken instruction to Daniel, and left the room. He disappeared into the dark tunnel and left the two teammates alone in the torture chamber. 

Daniel let out a sigh of relief, visibly wilting, his shoulders sagging with the burden he now carried. 

Jack wandered over to the table, studying the implements that had been left for them to use. 

"Any ideas how we can get out of this?" Daniel asked him, hands on hips. "Because I'm not. I won't. I can't." He crossed his arms over his ribs, enveloping his body in a supportive hug, obviously unwilling to even say the words. 

"Do the deed," Jack snapped. He reached out and passed over a leather bullwhip, selecting a flogger instead and handing it over to his friend. "You know how to use one of these?" 

Daniel's mouth dropped open, then shut with a snap as surprise morphed into defiance. "I am _not_ using that on you. Forget it!" 

"What did he say, Daniel?" Jack asked, looking his teammate steadily in the eye. "That last thing, before he left. What did he tell you?" 

Instantly, Daniel's gaze dropped and slid guiltily away. "Nothing. It's not important." 

"Don't give me that bullshit." He stepped up to the wall with the flogger in hand. "Come watch. Lemme show you how to do this." 

"I _know_ how to use that," Daniel snapped, dimples flashing in anger. "I just think it's too much. There are other things that would--" 

For a split second, Jack was startled by Daniel's admission, but now wasn't the time or place for a discussion on past history. He slipped past his surprise and concentrated on the matter at hand. 

"Yes, Daniel," Jack cut in matter-of-factly, striding back to the table and handing the flogger toward his friend, "you are. It'll leave some nice red marks that'll show you've done your job. Now, get your ass over here and let's discuss which of these other things you'll be using, and how." 

"And how the hell would _you_ know how to torture anybody?" Daniel shot back, chin jutted forward in defiance. 

Jack just looked at him with narrowed eyes, pushing back the memories of Iraq and other places where he'd been both victim and perpetrator of all manner of dark things. Things Daniel didn't need to know about, not now. Not _ever._

Daniel got it then. "Oh," he said quietly, his body drawing back and in on itself as realization set in. He stared at the floor. 

O'Neill selected a knife with the cleanest blade, some pincer-like clips, a pot of greasy ointment he thought might be some kind of styptic to staunch blood flow, a short baton, a fan-shaped wooden paddle and a small stub of a candle, laying them all out on the end of the table nearest the bucket. 

"I think the use of these toys oughtta be pretty self-explanatory," he said quietly. "Wounds on the face and scalp bleed the best. Bruises show up best over areas like the ribs where there isn't a lot of muscle mass. You gotta tie my ankles, too, or I might kick the shit out of you when I hit my limit, and you won't be expecting it. There's more rope at the other end of the table." He gave a nod in that direction. 

"Have you lost your fucking _mind_?" Daniel shouted, hands flailing up beside his head, then slamming down against his thighs tightly fisted, still resisting. 

Jack glanced at the darkened doorway, then into the frightened blue of Daniel's eyes, his voice inching up in volume and intensity as he argued back, "Look, our little friend is probably just out of sight, listening to our every word. He's waiting to hear me scream, and it's gonna take a hell of a lot for you to get me there. He knows that, and he's waiting. We won't get out of here till he's satisfied, so you better tie me the fuck _up_ and hang me on that hook, Daniel, because if you _don't_ , I'll probably _kill_ you before you finish the job, and then we'll all be dead." 

He held out his wrists as he'd done on the tribal grounds outside, waiting to be restrained. This would be hard for Daniel, but he had to do it. "You're the _only_ one I trust to get this right," he whispered, his voice a raw gust of wind in his tight throat. "Teal'c hardly knows his own strength and Carter… She doesn't have the heart. She'll give way when things get tough for us. You won't. You can make whatever sacrifice we need. So can I." 

Daniel swallowed visibly, then nodded, took off his hat and bent his head to his task. 

Jack had to help him, had to say something that would get him started. Daniel was going to have to put his emotions away and step into a dark place to take ownership of the role he'd just been handed. 

"It's okay," Jack murmured, studying the top of Daniel's head as he spoke. "You can't do this fast, just to get it over with, because I can't… It's gonna take a while, Daniel. You've got to dissociate yourself from this room, from what's gonna happen here, from who we are, or your emotions will get in the way, and you can't afford to let that happen. By doing this to me, you're saving Carter and Teal'c, and as hard as that is for you to grasp right now, you're saving me, too. We can _do_ this. We _can_. _You_ can." 

When Daniel looked up at him and nodded, his eyes were swimming with tears. His lower lip quivered, and he just nodded, his long hair waving around his face, making him look almost like a teenager. He looked… innocent. 

"Tie it tighter," Jack advised him gently. "You really don't want me working my way out of this. I _mean_ it. I'll kill you unless you break me, and then I'll go out there and get everyone else killed. We gotta save Carter and Teal'c, Daniel. These folks are mighty pissed, and it's _my_ fault, not yours." 

"Jack." The utterance was a choked sob. Daniel just wanted him to shut up. 

"It's okay," Jack whispered back, wishing he could lay a comforting, reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's okay. I trust you to do this for me. _Only_ you." 

With a sigh, Daniel pulled at the knot until the rope came loose. For a moment, his hands just hovered in the air. He was lost, shaken to the core. 

Jack reached up and took off Daniel's glasses, then tucked them into the breast pocket of his BDU jacket. He held very still while Daniel wrapped the rope around his wrists, giving the knot a good yank to pull it closed, then moved to stand beneath the hook at the center of the room. 

"We'll need a safe word," said Jack, taking care to keep his voice low, even, filled with calm certainty and reassurance. "Whatever I tell you, just ignore it unless I say the word 'cabin.' That's the only time you stop. Understand?" 

Daniel wandered over to the fixture on the wall to lower the immobilizing hook, his expression shell-shocked, hollow, almost… haunted. "I know. Just… give me a minute to wrap my head around this, get where I need to be." 

"I'll do the same." Jack didn't look at Daniel, but was aware of his friend pacing back and forth beside the table, his hands moving slowly through the air, illustrating some sort of internal dialogue. 

Daniel's fingers steepled together and touched his lips, then spread out slightly as if presenting an argument in a debate. He closed both hands into fists and lowered them to his sides, his knuckles turning white. Then his fingers uncurled and his head came up, his face set. He didn't look directly at Jack, but gave a sharp nod to indicate that he was ready, and walked toward the hoist's anchoring assembly attached to the wall. 

As soon as Jack could reach it, he stood on tiptoes and snagged the rope between his wrists onto the hook. "Up we go," he called as lightly as he could manage, directing Daniel to the right height where he really couldn't get loose, his body weight pulling at his wrists. In a few minutes, his hands would go numb, and after a while longer, so would his arms. His attention would be focused on his body, and if Daniel didn't get it right, then he'd have to explain and make Daniel handle necessary adjustments. 

He really, _really_ hoped Daniel wouldn't need a lecture on the finer points of torture, because Jack didn't think he'd be able to divide his attention between training him and exhibiting the desired reaction for the shaman so they could get the hell outta Dodge. 

"Don't forget to tie my ankles," Jack reminded him. 

"No need to do that," said Daniel. His tone of voice was firm, cool enough to send shivers up Jack's back. His face was a pale mask of blue-eyed certainty. 

Suddenly, he didn't seem so young and innocent. Well, at least he was taking charge. Still, better safe than sorry. 

"You're not a stupid man, Daniel. Tie me up for your own safety." 

"No. You're not giving the orders now." Daniel's chin tipped up and his eyes glittered beneath half-closed lids, smoldering with dark purpose. A tiny smile glimmered at one corner of his mouth, but it didn't reflect in the hard blue of his gaze. 

That look made the hair stand up on the back of Jack's neck. 

Daniel strolled over, snagged the chain around Jack's neck and lifted off his dog tags. He tucked them into the pocket of his BDU pants without looking. "Ready?" he asked with an icy little smile and a single arched eyebrow. 

Jack felt a little light-headed with anticipation. This was not going to be pretty. He nodded, planting his feet flat on the floor. "Go for it." 

Daniel got very close -- uncomfortably close -- standing at Jack's left side, a little behind him. Jack could feel his breath stirring the hair in his armpit. Daniel leaned even closer, right up to Jack's ear and whispered, "What are your demons, Jack?" 

Without warning, without waiting for a reply, he slapped Jack's ass cheek with his palm, hit him hard enough that Jack knew there would be a red print coloring on his stinging flesh. 

Jack gasped in surprise, flinched and jerked his head around to make eye contact, pulling back as far as the hook would allow him to put some space between him and his friend. 

Daniel stalked around to the other ear and invaded Jack's personal space again. "Answer me," Daniel growled. "We all have demons, things we don't dare do, places we don't dare go, because we know we'll never come back unchanged. What are your forbidden things, Jack?" 

Holy _crap!_ This wasn't what Jack had been expecting at all. He was a little off-guard, unbalanced by this intimidation tactic Daniel was using. 

Where the hell had _this_ come from, and why had Jack not seen this side of his friend before? Daniel had kept this aspect of his personality tightly under wraps, and Jack began to wonder what _else_ might be lurking in the depths of the young academic's psyche. 

Retreating to the table, Daniel picked up the paddle and returned to Jack's side. "These people are not as primitive as they seem to you," Daniel said quietly, but there was an edge to his voice not usually present in his expositionary discourse. "You see, by pairing you with someone who knew you well, they understood there would be a deeply psychological element to this encounter. They knew I'd be familiar with all your buttons, and just how to push them." 

The paddle came down on Jack's left thigh and his head pitched back, jaws clenching to hold in a grunt. Additional stinging blows rained down until he was certain his legs were red, hot and bright with sensation. When Daniel walked away, Jack let out a sigh of relief, panting to catch his breath. He thought about how Daniel was doing, and gave him passing marks. 

"They know which of us is the dominant one, and which the submissive. They understand how important it is for you to give the orders when things get rough, like this. They know I look to you for guidance under duress, like this. They _watched_ us. And who better to humiliate you than the one who is least in your control until it matters most?" Daniel's voice was soft, calm, certain. It had an almost hypnotic quality to it. 

The man had talent. He understood people. In this instance, that would be useful, but not much fun for Jack. 

Daniel lit the candle and wandered closer, this time ambling slowly back and forth, just intently studying the flickering flame, drawing Jack's stare to it as well, but Jack was trying to concentrate on Daniel's expression, to read him and anticipate what was coming next, to prepare for it. Then those blue eyes slid over to meet Jack's assessing gaze, and Daniel smiled at him. 

That look, so coy and playful and dangerous all at the same time, made Jack's guts clench. 

He pressed his lips tightly closed. 

_Oh, shit,_ he thought. _This is one of Daniel's demons, and I've let it loose._

Hot wax dripped onto Jack's chest and he threw his head back, jaws clenched, but a grunt of pain slipped out anyway. 

" _There_ we go, that's it," Daniel cooed, his voice rippling like warm black velvet against Jack's skin. 

Jack closed his eyes against the sight of that haunting face, the look of triumph gleaming in the azure gaze locked on his face. He concentrated on the dissipating heat of the wax burn, but felt instead the warmth of Daniel's voice against his ear, murmuring sounds of approval and encouragement. It made Jack's head spin, left him dizzy and disoriented. 

He was starting to get a little scared, not so much by Daniel as by what they were doing. His butt and legs were warm and tingly. The hot wax had cooled, leaving only an electric stinging in its wake. Jack's head was swirling in an endorphin high. He hadn't expected that, and needed a little deflection, to change the direction they were headed. His eyes popped open and he looked at his friend, his face only inches away, preparing to tip the candle again. 

"Not bad, Daniel," Jack panted. "You're getting the hang of it." 

The compliment was intended to pull back some of the energy and authority Jack had so blithely handed over earlier. Only Daniel wasn't allowing any of that. 

"Oh, Jack, you have _no_ idea," he purred. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Jack jerked and danced on the end of the hook, aching and breathless, acutely aware of his body in the places where his pain continued to glow with seductive heat. He couldn't take his eyes off Daniel now, the way he embraced the power and trust he held so carefully in his hands. The way Daniel's mouth moved into a smile, then baring his teeth in concentration and defiance. The way his eyes flickered with confidence and certainty; that glimmer in the blue depths that said he _really_ understood what he was doing. 

_That_ was what terrified Jack the most. Had Daniel done this before? Was he operating solely from academic knowledge obtained through his study of humanity, culture and ancient practices, or was this something else, a darkness in his past that he'd never mentioned to his best friend? Was that why he'd talked about demons? 

Then again, that wasn't exactly conversation material for beer and tacos while watching a hockey game in Jack's den. 

Daniel looked like a tiger stalking his prey, and Jack couldn't help but react to it. This was something he'd never seen: the professor had unexpectedly transformed into a wild animal before Jack's eyes. That realization shook him to the core. He felt a response in his body, a flushing of hot blood that seeped all through him, quickened his pulse and made his belly and thighs feel full. 

He was starting to get hard. 

"Jesus," Jack swore, looking away from Daniel's face. He needed to get himself under control, and stared at the bloodstained stone floor for a distraction. The awareness of his burgeoning erection made his mind go straight to his dick, which only compounded the problem and made him harder. 

"What's the matter, Jack?" Daniel crooned, suddenly back at his ear again. "You _like_ this, don't you? You _like_ me being in charge, taking control of your body. It's very liberating, isn't it?" 

"Shut _up_ , God damn it!" Jack snapped angrily, taking care to look at Daniel's chest rather than his face. 

"No," Daniel returned with a shake of his head. "You don't give the orders now, remember?" He put a hand on Jack's shoulder and gave him a little pat, which helped ground Jack, bleeding off a little of his rising sense of alarm. Then Daniel backed up, chin tipped down, gazing at Jack from beneath his lashes, his eyes a hot, electric blue, teeth showing in an inviting smile. 

He was fucking _sexy._

Jack tried to turn away, to look elsewhere, think of anything except being there with that man, but his body betrayed him, his cock continuing to lengthen and fill. His breath caught and he struggled to make his erection go soft again. Daniel's chuckle was humiliating and made Jack's face heat up with mortification. 

This was nobody's fault but his own. Jack had put his trust in Daniel's hands, tied it up with a pretty bow and handed it over, and demanded that his friend _own_ this role. He'd made sure Daniel understood the price, had ordered him to do it. Daniel was performing because he had to, not for any other reason. Whatever happened in this room… it just happened. Some of the details would remain private, just between them, and would never appear in a mission report. 

Even though Jack knew that to the roots of his soul, knew Daniel would never betray him, he still felt utterly naked now, not just without his clothes, but vulnerable, stripped in a way he'd never before been. Daniel was seeing a part of Jack O'Neill that no one had ever been meant to see. That humility was tinged with acknowledgment of the indelible, unbreakable trust that flowed between them. 

Jack put his head down. 

"Yessssss," Daniel hissed softly. "Oh, you like it, all right." 

He moved in close, his nose touching Jack's sideburns, his voice sending chills all through Jack, making him shudder and gasp. 

"No, I don't." Jack's voice was a raw whisper tearing through his throat. 

It wasn't the pain that was arousing him, not at all. It was something else entirely. That scared him shitless, but didn't dent the faith he'd placed in his younger friend at all. Daniel would get him through this, and afterward, they'd have a chat. Things were happening here that needed to be more fully discussed. 

Or maybe they'd never talk about it again. That was a possibility, too. 

He watched Daniel's boots head for the table, and raised his gaze just enough to check out the next tool to be used on him. His mouth went dry as Daniel reached for a beautifully woven bullwhip at the far end of the table, ignoring the flogger that Jack had put into his hands earlier. 

"Not that!" Jack ordered automatically. He knew the damage that instrument could cause; had seen it used in the Iraqi prison where he'd been in captivity so long ago. A handful of lashes could put a strong man on his knees, flay the flesh off his bones, and in the hands of a novice, Jack knew that took could lay him wide open. "Use the flog--" 

"Shut _up,_ or I'll have to gag you," Daniel shot back. The tone in his voice was so authoritative, so eloquently calm and sure it sent a shockwave of surprise through Jack. "I know what I'm doing with this. Haven't touched one in a few years, but… I'm sure it'll be like riding a bicycle. The body doesn't forget." 

_Where the hell had Daniel learned to use a bullwhip?  
_

Daniel let the tip dangle and drag on the floor as he wandered closer. He lifted the butt end of the lash and cracked the tip through the air, snapping it right beside Jack's left armpit. He jerked involuntarily, and his ass clenched tightly. 

"I used to be pretty good with one of these things," Daniel confessed casually, as if handling a toy. "It's interesting what a college student will pick up on a dig site when there's nothing to do for weeks on end because politics are holding up the excavation." 

He ran his hands over the woven leather handle, appreciative fingers examining the trailing length of the whip. "You should try not to flinch." 

Jack's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, completely devoid of spit now. Fear coiled in his belly, making his dick shrink and sweat bead on his upper lip. "College was a long time ago, Daniel," he argued gently, hoping he sounded reasonable. "I really think you should--" 

Daniel's eyes lifted to his and silenced him immediately. "I really think you should _shut the hell up,_ Jack." 

He nodded. "Okay." 

Jackson took off his hat, BDU jacket and T-shirt, dropping them on the stone floor at the end of the equipment table. His body glistened with a sheen of sweat in the torchlight, well-muscled and defined with the rigorous exercise he received as part of the SGC exploration team. Daniel was no longer a pasty academic; he was a powerful man developing into someone self-assured and dangerous. 

His sexual allure was undeniable, even to a straight man like Jack. 

Daniel raised his right arm over his head, then brought it down in a graceful S-curve. The whip snapped and sang, making elegant arcs through the air as Daniel got the feel of it, judged his distances. He stepped closer, then a little to the left, then to the right, then leaned forward to adjust his stance and add more power to the swing. 

Jack was amazed at his friend's proficiency, but the sound of it made him jump every time it cracked. And every time, the tip came nearer and nearer, until it finally touched him, grazing across the skin on his chest. 

He jerked. "Hey, watch it!" he shouted instinctively, realizing just as the words left his mouth that he was not the one in command here. "Sorry! Sorry. I forgot." 

Daniel stalked around him, taking up a position behind him. The whip snapped again and Jack gasped at the sensation as the tip sang in the air just above his lower back, like an electric buzz shooting sparks through his body. The strokes weren't really hard enough to hurt, just to tease. 

Another stroke licked at his shoulders, a mere flash of heat that made him dance away, tugging at the hook above his head as he tried to turn around. 

He struggled to see Daniel's face, startled by the determination etched into the lines around his friend's mouth. 

Daniel _was_ good at this. _Too_ damn good for this to be his first time, and aware that Jack knew it now, too. He nodded, accepting that they had crossed that ground together. 

Jack swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears, heart beating in his throat, belly throbbing with increasing arousal and heat. 

Maybe Jack didn't know this man as well as he'd thought. The very idea of Daniel as a dom made Jack's wits vaporize. Even more damning was the mental image of the younger man dangling from the hook with Jack doling out the punishment. 

"We all have our demons," Daniel murmured, strolling into view, his eyes haunted and dark, half-hidden by the curtain of his hair. "This is mine. I begged you to take this away from me, because I didn't want to go here, _especially_ not with you. You made me accept that _I_ had to be the one to do this, so now we face the monster together, like it or not." 

"Daniel, stop!" Jack begged. He was starting to get a little scared. "Let's talk about this." He stretched up onto his toes, extending his arms upward, struggling to lift the ropes off the hook, but they weren't budging. He was stuck, dangling from the ceiling at Daniel's mercy, his dick bobbing up and down with every movement. 

"Too late now. The genie's out of the bottle. You can't put it back in and pretend this didn't happen." Daniel glanced down at Jack's crotch, then back up into his eyes. "And I don't think you really want to, do you?" 

The sensations of that whip grazing his skin and the look on Daniel's face was… well, it was having an effect on him, something like trying to put out a bonfire with gasoline. 

He was completely hard now, his dick swelling further and twitching upward with every beat of his heart. 

Daniel saw it. For a moment he just stood there, whip in hand, staring down at Jack's crotch as his dick stuttered to vibrant life. Then he raised his eyes to meet Jack's. 

His expression was unreadable, and that was scary, because Daniel was a man who always wore his heart on his face. 

Then he prowled around behind Jack and started to work the lash again, the tip dancing here and there across Jack's skin, the barest whisper of contact just across his shoulders, down the back of his thighs, over his buttocks. 

Jack started to panic. He tried to turn around, to face Daniel, but the hook wouldn't spin with him and just flipped him around with his back to his tormentor. It wasn't the pain or even the threat of it that was scaring him; it was something else, something he'd tried to keep buried, now working its way loose inside him. 

This _couldn't_ be happening. He had to stop it before it went too far. Before _he_ went too far. 

"Take me down from here, Daniel!" he ordered. "We'll figure something else out." He tried to jump upward, to unhook the ropes, free himself somehow. 

"I don't think so," said Daniel. His voice was silky, dark velvet that rippled in the air of the underground room. "This turns you on, doesn't it, Jack? Your dick is hard. It's _begging_ for attention. I want to hear you beg. I want you to beg me to touch it." 

Daniel stalked in front of him and traded the whip for the knife, his well-muscled body glistening with sweat, rivulets running down across his abdomen. He danced the tip of the blade over the sensitive crease between Jack's belly and thigh, careful not to cut the flesh, just let him feel the sharp edge of the blade pressing against him. 

Jack strangled a cry, closing his eyes against the flash of heat that shot straight into his dick. His erection jumped up, bumping against his belly, so hard now it almost hurt. 

"Fuck!" he shouted, furious with himself, more than a little pissed off at Daniel. "Get me down from here this _instant,_ Daniel Jackson!" 

"You can't order me around," the other man returned sweetly. "You're my commander in the field, but you're not in command now, are you, Jack?" Daniel smiled, just a fraction, the left side of his mouth softening into his cheek. 

That look was… _hot._

Jack's dick reared up, twitching in response to the view. He tried to fight off the rising tide of desire, but it was too late. His secret was out. 

Daniel _knew._

"Answer me!" he shouted, demanding a response. 

Jack tore his gaze away, aiming his eyes at the floor by Daniel's boots. 

"No. I'm not in command," Jack answered breathlessly. His mouth was sticky dry, his tongue clicking as he spoke. Sweat trickled from his armpits and neck down his ribs, tickling him, making him itch. God, he needed to get free and get the hell _out_ of there! 

"You've never been able to make me do what you wanted, have you?" Daniel asked. "Not what you really wanted, because you never told me you like _this_." 

Jack dared not say anything. 

When Daniel didn't get an answer, he caressed Jack with the blade again, tracing the edge along Jack's ribs. 

This time, it stung, and there was a trickle of blood in its wake. 

Jack's answer was quick, desperate. "No! You never obey me." He had to get out of this, and fast. He looked Daniel in the eye, desperate, pleading. "I can fake it, Daniel. Just keep snapping the whip in the air and I'll scream. I can make it sound real, I swear!" 

Daniel shook his head. "The shaman will know the difference." He sliced lightly across Jack's flesh again and again, the shallow cuts starting to burn as Daniel increased the pressure and depth of the incisions, cutting just enough, never too much; for sensation, not to damage. 

"Jesus!" Jack yelped, throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut hard. He lifted himself up on his toes, trying to dislodge the ropes from the hook again, panting with effort. The pain flooded his body with heat and he knew he was bleeding, aware of the trickle from a dozen tiny cuts mixing with the sweat that ran down his body, clotting into his body hair. He thought the stinging would make his erection wither, but it swelled even thicker instead. 

It felt good, pounding hard between his legs with his pulse. He'd never been so aroused. Nothing in his life had ever felt so dangerous. 

"Jesus," he whispered, closing his eyes in shame. 

"You really _like_ this, don't you?" Daniel growled through clenched teeth, right up in his face again, his mouth so close to Jack's he could feel the warmth of Daniel's breath on his lips. 

"No. No, I don't, Daniel. I don't. I don't know what this is, but I _don't_ like it." He opened his eyes and looked down at himself, at his dick straining and swollen with need, making a liar of him. 

"Admit it," Daniel snapped. "You're fucking turned _on."_ His fingers traced across Jack's lower belly. He looked angry now. 

"No!" Jack shouted, dancing away from that damning touch as far as the hook would let him. "No, God, I swear!" 

"You want me to jerk you off?" Daniel asked, his voice demanding. "Is that it? You want to feel my hand on your dick?" 

The flat side of the cold knife blade pressed against Jack's left nipple and he sucked in a shocked breath. There had been no pain, no threat of it in that touch, but it had an effect and he responded instantly. "Yes! Just _do_ it already!" 

"That isn't how this works," Daniel rumbled patiently, stroking the fingers of his free hand across Jack's belly. "You have to ask me nicely. You have to _beg_ me to touch you there." 

"Unh." Jack felt as if he'd just been punched in the gut. He lifted his gaze to Daniel's eyes and saw someone he wasn't sure he knew. Whoever this guy was, he was powerful, bitch lord of the mountain that held them both prisoner. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing. "Oh, Jesus, Daniel. _Don't._ Don't make me do this! Please. _Please!"_

"Beg me." He stepped closer. Those blue eyes dropped to Jack's crotch, then back up to his eyes, daring him, ordering him to comply. _Demanding_ obedience. 

"I _am_ begging!" 

"No, you're not. You're giving an order. You're telling me what to do. You have to ask. _Sincerely._ Make me believe how much you want it." Daniel stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, chin lifted imperiously in the air, eyes half closed and glittering with power. "Say the words." 

Jack felt his absence instantly, needed Daniel to get closer, to feel the heat radiating from his body. He was so alone, dangling from that hook. "Please," he whispered. "Jesus, just touch me, Daniel. I _need_ it." 

Daniel just waited, so cool, so distant and unreachable. He cocked his head and smiled, coy and teasing. Waiting. 

Jack couldn't bear the distance between them. "Touch me," he gasped aloud. "Please, put your hand on my dick. Please jerk me off, Daniel! Ohgodpleeeeease! I'll do whatever you want." 

The other man smiled widely with approval and nodded. "Almost good enough," he whispered, his voice a sexy glide of consonants and vowels in the air between them. "Tell me how much you want it." He took a step closer, his left hand dropping downward and reaching out, just a little, fingers open and ready to grasp. 

Jack's eyes followed the movement, staring. His voice broke. He twisted on the hook, his body aching with need, desperately trying to climb upward and get loose, cock swinging and slicing through the air as he writhed. "Jesus _FUCK!_ " he cried. "Please, Daniel, God, put your hand on my dick. Wanna feel your fingers on me, wanna fuck your fist _PLEASE!"_

With a few quick steps, his friend was at his side. "I've got you, Jack," Daniel whispered in his ear. His hand closed around Jack's erection, his body pressed close, and that firm, sure contact pushed Jack over the edge. 

He threw his head back and bit down on the moans of pleasure, his balls drawing up tight as he shot his load into the air, Daniel's grip on the base of his cock, squeezing, milking him. Jack panted as the last spasm passed, leaving him completely drained, the top of his head tingling. He kept his eyes on the floor, too ashamed to look at his teammate. 

Daniel's voice in his ear held a distinct note of pleasure. "Very good, Jack. _Very_ hot. I made you come, didn't I? _Say_ it. Say it out loud." 

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear the sweat from them, get his bearings. His voice was a mere whisper of capitulation. "You made me c-come." 

He glanced down at his bleeding body. There were half a dozen weeping slices through the skin on his back, chest and belly, dark blood matted into his body hair. He tried to measure the damage against that look in the shaman's eyes and knew this wouldn't do. If the medicine man had been listening in the dark tunnel, he would no doubt be listening for breathing patterns as well as cries of pain. 

Getting off hadn't been part of the bargain. He and Daniel had gotten sidetracked into forbidden territory _way_ off the path the aliens had wanted them to go. They had to get back on track. 

He shook his head, turning an alarmed gaze on his friend, hoping Daniel would understand. 

"You're gonna have to hurt me," he whispered. " _Really_ hurt me, Daniel. That witch doctor will want to see more blood than this. He wants real damage, not…" He glanced down at his cock dripping onto the floor. "Not _this_. We weren't supposed to go _there."_

The smell of semen was strong in the air, and Jack felt a drop of cooling come impact on his left instep. He lifted his head, staring at the wall, his knees like jelly, struggling to support him. He was intoxicated by all this, and it would never be over between them, he told himself. Daniel would never look at him the same way again. Jack believed this would kill any respect the other man had for him, and destroy their friendship. 

Jack's heart sank. His head drooped. "I'm sorry. I should've been stronger." He kept watch on Daniel's face in his peripheral vision, unable to make eye contact. 

"You _wanted_ this." Daniel's chin tipped up, his eyes glittering with cool self-assurance and solid belief. "You wanted to be hurt, because it turns you on." 

"No." Jack shook his head, panting, slinging sweat with the sharp movement. "I've been tortured before, but I never reacted like _this._ Pain isn't my thing." 

Daniel's voice was gentler now. His hand smoothed up from Jack's limp dick, across his belly, up into his chest hair. His face was so close his cheek brushed against the hair in Jack's left armpit. "No. I get that, but I also know it can tear down walls, Jack. It can set you free, give you something you didn't even know you wanted. This is the only thing that will let you give up the control you hold onto so desperately. I _know."_

Like a dash of cold water in his face, that confession was a lightning bolt of illumination for Jack. 

_Oh, God._ Daniel was on the wrong end of this, and he was suffering. Having to be so fiercely in control of someone else like this was tearing him apart. Jack wondered if he realized the truth he'd just revealed about himself. 

Then again, if he'd done this before… 

Daniel strolled over to the table and picked up the clips, an obvious erection tenting out his BDU trousers. 

Oh, yeah. Daniel knew. Jack wasn't the only one feeling the effects. 

The other man walked back without meeting his eyes, his gaze on Jack's red-striped body instead. Daniel's fingers ghosted across his friend's ribs, over his belly and hip, and Daniel paced slowly around him, dragging his hand across Jack's trembling, sweaty flesh as he moved, leaving trails in the trickles of clotting blood. The rough fabric of Daniel's pants stroked across Jack's upper thigh, and sent an unexpected thrill through Jack that set his heart pounding harder. 

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to stop thinking, Jack, and just _be?"_ He cocked his head, shooting a sideways glance at his friend, then turning his attention back to the clips in his grip, fingers holding one up in the air and curling around the other in his palm. "Maybe it's easy for you, but I'm not good at it. That's why I have trouble sleeping, why I have so many headaches. I can't just shut off, like a lot of people do." 

What an outsider might hear as simple, casual conversation here was far more than that. Jack looked up, studying Daniel's face as his younger friend turned pupils blown with arousal from the implements in his hand to Jack's body. 

Daniel had as much as told Jack he wanted to be set free. He ached for it, and believed he couldn't have it, not ever. He was envious of Jack, maybe even a little angry. The truth of that was all over his face, in the set of his stubborn chin, the narrowed eyes, the flashing teeth as he spoke. 

"I know what pain can do for you," Daniel rumbled, his mouth inches from Jack's left ear. "But maybe you're right. Maybe it's not the pain." 

Daniel's fingers rubbed at Jack's left nipple, making it harden. He leaned closer, placing himself right in front of Jack's eyes, forcing a visual connection. "Maybe it's just me," he whispered, his breath warming Jack's lips. 

Then, without warning, Daniel kissed him. 

_Kissed_ him. 

Jack was so startled he didn't react at first, just allowed it. Then Daniel's hand slipped upward, clutching at Jack's nape, pulling him closer, and Jack was helpless, unable to resist. In the silence Jack was aware of the wet sounds their mouths were making, their tongues clashing and dancing, desire ratcheting up so hard and fast it took Jack's breath away. 

Then Daniel's mouth was stroking over Jack's neck, down across his chest and closing over one nipple while his fingers worked the other. 

"Unh!" Jack moaned, then choked back further sounds of pleasure. This was wrong, going the wrong way; it was supposed to _hurt_ , not feel _so_ fucking good. "Daniel… Stop! Ohgodstopthis…" 

A clip closed unexpectedly over Jack's nipple and he cried out in alarm. The instant of tenderness eased into pressure, tolerable but intense. Then Daniel stopped nibbling his other nipple and fastened the second clip over the hardened, wet nub. 

Another little cry slipped out and Jack felt his jellied knees buckle. He panted, struggling not to make a sound. He was dizzy, drunk with sensory overload. He couldn't take his eyes off Daniel. 

He watched in rapt fascination as Daniel's head moved lower, his lips trailing through the swipes of blood across Jack's belly. He couldn't believe this was happening, staring as Daniel dropped slowly to his knees. His eyes slid closed as Daniel's lips wrapped around his spent dick, sucking off the last dribbles of come. Pleasure and pain fused in Jack's body, ripping him free of his last shred of self-control. He gave himself up to this, letting Daniel do whatever he wanted, letting him be the one in charge. 

"Yes," he whispered, lost in a maelstrom of sensation so thick he couldn't find his way back. "It's just you." 

Jack let his head fall back, delirious with the sensory overload. He didn't want it to stop. He wanted _more._

His hips pushed his limp dick into Daniel's hot, wet mouth. Jack's body ached with need, his nerve endings electrified with desire. He forgot why they were there, what they'd been trying to accomplish. The universe had narrowed down to his body and Daniel's, the heat of that room, the tingling, forbidden song reverberating through his body. 

He tipped his chin downward and opened his eyes, staring at Daniel's sweaty, naked torso crouched before him. Daniel's eyes were blissfully closed, and his mouth was… God, his mouth was wrapped around Jack's dick, sucking him, licking him clean, laving his balls. It was the hottest, sexiest thing Jack had ever seen. 

Then Daniel's lips slipped off him and the coolness made his spent cock shrivel even more. He saw Daniel stand up and step away from him, watched with anticipation as Daniel caressed the hard-on in his trousers. Jack didn't know if Daniel had been aroused by watching him come or by watching him bleed, but he didn't care what had inspired that impressive boner. He just _wanted_ it, wanted to feel it inside him, with Daniel's arms wrapped around him tightly. 

"The things I can show you, Jack," Daniel hinted seductively, his voice a low, dark purr. "The things I want to _do_ to you…" 

"Fuck me, Daniel," Jack panted, stunned and amazed that the words had come out of his own mouth. "Please! I want you to fuck me." 

Daniel's gaze met his, measuring, questioning. He glanced away and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths, obviously struggling with self-control. Then, he nodded. He retrieved the greasy ointment from the table and stepped behind his friend, but not before Jack got a glimpse into the blue once more. 

That look said everything. 

Jack closed his eyes and relaxed against the ropes on his wrists. He felt weightless, completely without restraint or responsibility. He heard the rustle of clothing as Daniel unbuttoned his fly and pushed his pants down. He could smell Daniel's arousal, wanted to see it, but couldn't bring himself to ask because Daniel was doing the driving here. His own dick started to thicken again, anticipating what his friend was going to do. 

"I've never." Jack couldn't say the words, but he wanted Daniel to know he'd be the first man to fuck him. 

"I _know,"_ Daniel whispered filthily in his ear, "but you always wanted it. Wanted _me."_

The little pot of ointment clattered to the floor after Daniel dropped it, and Jack flinched. His arms had gone numb long ago, and now his hands were starting to tingle uncomfortably. His knees ached and his body needed to rest, but all Jack could feel was his heartbeat pounding in his chest, thumping up into his throat and ears. 

Then Daniel's hands were on his ass cheeks, spreading them open. Jack put his head down and closed his eyes, the whole of his attention focused on his backside. His eyes prickled with heat. He widened his stance a little and rolled his hips back to give Daniel better access. 

"Do it," Jack whispered, barely able to contain his excitement. "I _want_ it, Danny. I need it. Need you to do this to me. _With_ me." 

He'd never felt so utterly, completely free. He was falling -- ohgod _falling_ into the remembered blue of Daniel's eyes, into the depths of his wounded, aching soul. 

Daniel had lost so much, but Jack could give him this. And it wasn't just for Daniel, anyway. "Do it hard. Gotta make it good." 

He wanted to feel the absolute power of being taken, being helpless and completely subordinate to Daniel's desire. _Wanted_ it, and Daniel knew it, too. 

He pushed his hips backward, knowing Daniel was close, and felt his friend's erection slide over his anus and up the crack of his ass. Daniel repositioned himself and pushed into Jack's anus, his cock slick with the ointment, burying himself to the root in one brutal, quick stroke. 

Jack howled with the agony of entry, instinctively jerking away from the invasion of his body, but Daniel's arm swept around his waist and pulled him back, impaling him again. The pain was blinding, breathtaking, paralyzing. Jack hung helplessly by his numb arms, struggling just to inhale, unable to move. 

That cry, he knew, would be enough for the shaman, but he and Daniel weren't done. Jack wanted _more_ , wanted Daniel to finish this. He wanted to feel Daniel come inside him, and he knew he _shouldn't_ want that, but he did. 

He didn't fucking care, acutely aware of Daniel's hands splayed over his belly and hip, holding onto him, grip sliding through his blood and sweat. Daniel's breath was hot against his neck and shoulders, panting and shallow as he fucked him. Jack could feel his friend's body shuddering against him, trembling with emotion, his groans of pleasure mixed with soft sobs of regret. Daniel was coming apart, and Jack could feel it in his own body with every stroke of his cock. 

"It's okay, Danny," Jack whispered, turning his head as much as he could to talk over his shoulder. "I want this. Want you." 

Daniel's voice broke over the sound of Jack's name, and then his hands were moving, caressing Jack's belly and chest, his body pressed close to Jack's back, shuddering, grinding, sliding in the blood and sweat. His breathing changed from shallow gasps to starved gulps as his strokes changed, deepening, lengthening. 

Jack's eyes closed and he let his head tip back. The pain was gone now, only a halo of heat remaining to warm his asshole. This was _amazing_ , better than Jack had ever believed it could be. 

"God, yes!" he groaned. " _So_ fuckin' good, Danny." 

Kisses rained on Jack's neck and shoulders. Teeth scraped against his skin. Fingers dug into his muscles, then flicked at the clips fastened to his nipples, making him yelp and twist on the hook, sending fresh heat straight to his dick. 

Jack was in free-fall, totally helpless, completely supported by infinite trust in the man who held him willing prisoner. He'd never felt so light, so utterly and completely liberated. He was flying without an airplane. 

He heard himself grunting as Daniel fucked him, each sound uttered with the bliss of Daniel's thrusts. He listened as Daniel's voice inflamed him, pushed him higher, Daniel's moans and soft cries whipping him like a lash, driving him closer and closer to bliss. Jack didn't hold back, giving himself up to the rhythm of Daniel's body. He felt that thick cock inside him pulse, filling him with Daniel's come and it was like an electric shock to his prostate, jolting him into his own explosive orgasm. 

Jack didn't care that he'd just come all over the floor again, splattering semen on his feet and legs. Daniel hadn't even touched his dick this time. There had been no enhancing friction against the sensitive places on his cock, just getting his ass drilled by another man. 

And it had been the single _best_ orgasm of Jack's whole life. 

He smiled. A little laugh gusted out of his mouth, then developed into a full-blown guffaw. He was stunned. What a learning experience this had been! 

"You can let me down now," he told Daniel when he finally managed to resurrect a little self-control. 

Daniel was still holding him, his spent cock still wedged between Jack's ass cheeks. "You're not in command here, remember?" said Daniel, his voice edged with unseen tears. His forehead rested against Jack's nape, and he was trembling. 

At that moment, Jack realized what a toll this had taken on his friend. Maybe the domination Jack had seen in Daniel's face had just been an act, a role he'd taken on to complete an unpleasant mission. Maybe it was a tiny glimpse into the real Daniel Jackson, a face that no one had ever seen before. Whatever the truth was, the emotional quivering in his voice was assurance that it had been undertaken at great personal cost to him. 

"Cabin," said Jack gently. "It's okay, Danny. We're done here." 

Daniel nodded against his back, then reached up and draped Jack's dog tags over his neck, dropping them into place against his chest. "Good, because I'm done being the dom now. You drive." Then he reached around Jack and unfastened the clips from Jack's nipples. 

The sudden rush of relief made Jack gasp and sent another pulse of orgasm to his dick. 

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ!" he gasped, eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to stave off further aftershocks. 

Daniel's sudden absence behind him sent a waft of cool air along Jack's back and buttocks, and he felt a swift pang of loss, quickly pushing the sensation away. A moment later, his numb arms started to drop down in front of him as Daniel lowered the hook, and Jack struggled to keep his feet under the influence of the overload of endorphins rushing through his brain. He groaned as blood began to rush back into his oxygen-starved limbs, bringing tingling, unpleasant pain with it. 

He dropped to his knees on the stone floor, grimacing and rocking, teeth clenched as he tried to make his fingers move. 

Then Daniel was there, his field knife slicing through the rope tied around his wrists, massaging blood and sensation back into Jack's arms and hands. 

Jack studied his friend's face, aware that Daniel was avoiding making eye contact. Jack could feel Daniel's come dripping out of his ass, running down his buttocks and thighs. The scent of sex was strong in the room, mixed with sweat and blood and fear. He could smell himself on Daniel, and Daniel on him. The other man's pants were hastily buttoned, just enough to keep his trousers on and closed. 

"We gotta talk about this, Daniel," Jack told his friend, studying his reddened face. 

Daniel shook his head, still not looking him in the eye. "No, we don't. It's done. The shaman’s requirements are met." 

If they buried this event, Jack believed it would kill their friendship, and he wasn't about to let Daniel walk out of his life. He was too important to Jack, especially in light of what they'd just done together. Jack needed a tactic here, a tool he could use to pry open Daniel's psyche and find out what had been going on inside him, because Jack wasn't the only one who'd been changed by this event. They both had, and he didn't want Daniel to deal with the damage alone. He'd done far too much of that in his young lifetime. 

"What did the witch doctor tell you?" Jack asked gently. 

"He said to make you pay for the offense to them and their gods. He wasn't specific." 

"Yes, he was. That last thing he said before he left. What was it?" Jack flexed his right hand, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth as his fingers finally closed. 

Daniel's mouth pressed into a firm, angry line, making his dimples flare. He hesitated, glanced up at Jack's mouth, careful to avoid his eyes, then dropped his gaze back to Jack's hands. He sighed resignedly. "M'tumbu said to believe there was nothing outside this room. He told me to teach you the meaning of trust, and that only you and I would know when the lesson was over." 

Jack nodded, understanding perfectly. "He wasn't out _there_ , Daniel. He wasn't listening in the shadows, like we thought. That wasn't the point." 

Those blue eyes were startled as they finally flicked up to meet Jack's steady gaze, Daniel's lips parting in a round 'o' of surprise. "Of _course,_ he was." 

"Then why hasn't he come back in here to tell us we can go now?" Jack lifted one hand, still pulsing with renewed sensation, and settled it on the curve of Daniel's neck. He gave Daniel a tiny little shake. "I gotta lie down now, Danny. Just for a couple minutes, to rest. Why don'tcha see if you can find my clothes?" 

Daniel's surprise was palpable, but he put it aside and helped Jack recline on his back on the stone floor. He rolled up his discarded T-shirt and tucked it beneath Jack's head, then draped his BDU jacket over Jack's crotch and placed the bucket of water and towels next to him for whenever he was ready for it. Then he dashed out of the torch-lit chamber into the dark passageway, and Jack closed his eyes, thinking back over what had transpired in that room. 

He rubbed his hands and arms, gradually working the feeling back into them as he waited for Daniel to return. He heard his friend's shattered breathing just before footsteps announced his arrival in the chamber. Daniel was balanced on the verge of tears, struggling for control of his emotions. 

"You were right, Jack," he announced, dropping the bundle of Jack's clothes and boots beside his friend. He gave Jack a drink from the ladle in the bucket, then dampened one of the towels to begin washing him off. 

"Leave it," Jack ordered, glaring at the dripping cloth. 

Daniel nodded, ducking his head and hiding behind his hair. He'd misunderstood what Jack was trying to tell him. It was obvious that Daniel thought Jack didn't want his touch. He started to back away, but Jack caught at his shoulder and held him still until he relaxed. 

Then Jack started to wash his personal bits while Daniel looked politely away. "I want them to see," he murmured quietly, avoiding cleansing off the blood and sweat on his torso, concentrating on cleaning away just the evidence of the sex, rinsing off his buttocks, feet and legs. 

Daniel's voice was husky, trembling as he began to speak. "M'tumbu was sitting at the entrance of the cave the whole time. He didn't even want to look at you, to see what I'd done. What he'd made me do. He said he'd know if we'd done it right by who left first, in what order, and the expression on our faces. If we'd come out together, he'd know we'd cooked up a plan. If I came out by myself, then… He knew when he saw me that they'd made their point." 

His voice broke. "I'm sorry, Jack! I'm so sorry for what I did to you." 

Jack put a hand to Daniel's cheek and turned his face to make him look Jack in the eye. "Don't be," he said firmly. "We both did what we had to do to get us all out of here alive. That's all that happened." 

Daniel's eyes were swimming with unshed tears. "No, it's not! I _raped_ you. _Nobody_ told me to do that." 

"That's not true," Jack countered gently, dropping his gaze to Daniel's trembling lips, "and it wasn't rape. I told you what to do, and you did it. You were following my lead. Nobody has to know about that but you and me." 

"Janet will know." 

O'Neill nodded. "And nobody has to know it was you. We can say it was the voodoo man." 

"Shaman," Daniel corrected automatically. "I just… I don't. Why? Why did you tell me to do that?" 

"It was necessary." 

Jack raised himself up on one elbow and kissed Daniel firmly on the lips, slipping his tongue inside his mouth, exploring, inviting. For a moment, Daniel kissed him back. Then he jerked away and sat down hard on the floor beside him. 

"You just… you thought it would be what the shaman wanted. Humiliation and pain." Daniel curled up, hugging his knees, hiding his face behind his long hair, still trying to reason his way through an event beyond logic. "I hurt you! God, I hurt you so badly, I _know_ I did! I heard you scream, and I kept going. I did it anyway." 

Jack nodded. "Yeah. But wasn't _rape_ , Danny. It hurt at first, I'll give you that, but that's not how it ended. Remember?" He leaned closer and lowered his voice, husky with the traces of spent desire. "You made me _come_. Didn't even have to touch my dick to get me off. I trusted you the way you've trusted me to watch your six over the last two years. Not because I had to, but because I knew I _could_ trust you, like I've never trusted anybody else." 

A wordless, grief-stricken gurgle escaped Daniel's throat as tears poured down his cheeks. He shook his head, unable to speak, shattered by what he'd done. Daniel had only just recovered from addiction to the sarcophagus, and there was no doubt plenty of buried rage just below the surface. He'd been putting on a brave face, going out into the field, but he was still struggling with the guilt of having left his teammates in bondage, working themselves to death while he was dressed in silks and pampered at a royal table. 

Not that long ago, Jack had sat with Daniel on the floor of a storeroom at the SGC and held him together when he'd been coming apart at the seams. Right now, he knew Daniel needed grounding again. He needed Jack's voice and his touch. 

"You _wanted_ me, didn't you?" Jack whispered, sitting up and scooting closer, needing to get his hands on Daniel, needing to touch him as much as he knew Daniel needed to be held. "Wanted me for a long time, I'll bet." 

Daniel covered his eyes with his palms, obviously ashamed of himself and what he'd done. "Yes. But I shouldn't. I'm married." 

Jack pulled him into his arms, rocking him, comforting him, the ghost of other such moments swirling through Jack's consciousness. This was where they'd always been headed, from the moment they'd first met. They were two halves of a whole, filling in each other's weaknesses, shoring the other up with strengths they lacked. Daniel was Jack's soul mate, and it had taken far too long and too much violence to wake him up to that. Daniel wasn't quite there yet, and it would be up to Jack to take him the rest of the way. 

"Hey," Jack said gently, fingers stroking Daniel's sweaty hair and nape. "I can tell you what's gonna happen when we get back to the base. I'll tell you what to put into your report and what to leave out. They'll recommend counseling for both of us, and we'll have to do some of that to make it look good, but you didn't do anything wrong, Danny. You did it all right. _Just_ right. And we'll keep looking for Sha'ure. We'll figure things out some other time. Just not here and now." 

Daniel nodded and wiped his face on his sleeve, obviously not buying Jack's guilt-free sales pitch. He wouldn't make eye contact, kept his gaze directed anywhere but Jack's face. 

"C'mon. Let's get everybody home." O'Neill pulled on his shorts and socks, then his pants, dragging them up his wobbly legs as he got to his feet. As soon as he was dressed, he patted Daniel on the shoulder and led the way out of the mountain, head high, meeting the eyes of the shaman as they emerged into the sunlight. 

For a moment, the scarred little man in red paint and feathers looked a bit lost when he stared into Jack's eyes. This obviously wasn't the expression he'd been expecting of a man who'd had a taste of humility. What had been shared between Jack and Daniel in the privacy of the torture chamber was not for public display. 

M'tumbu turned his dark-eyed gaze down to Jack's bleeding body, then to Daniel, studying the way he moved, his head bowed, his shoulders bent, eaten up with guilt, shame and defeat. Then he smiled at Jack and nodded, certain his punishment had been meted out. 

The witch doctor presented them both with small gifts and took them back to the village center, where Carter and Teal'c were released and the team said their official good-bye to the tribe. They headed back through the Stargate and Jack requested lock-out of the planetary designation upon arrival, heading to the infirmary with Daniel hot on his heels. He was more concerned about his younger teammate than himself and the minor wounds his friend had inflicted. Jack was sore and getting a little stiff; his ass hurt from the vigorous fucking he'd gotten, but otherwise he felt just fine. 

It wasn't terribly surprising to find that Daniel had turned in his resignation to General Hammond shortly after being released from the check-in exam. 

Jack suggested Hammond lose it in a drawer for a few days, until he'd had a chance to talk some sense into the man. 

There were circumstances that provided an excuse for each of them for their behavior. The events of that mission would be swept under the rug and forgotten in due time. Jack knew enough about the military to understand that, but he and the General both knew there would have to be words over this, words that no one could hear but the two men who had been in that cave. 

SG-1 would have a week's down time. Jack left the base and made a couple of stops on the way to Daniel's loft. When he arrived, he knocked and waited for Daniel to let him in, knowing the door would stay shut and the man inside would not answer right away. He knocked several more times, reining in his patience, avoiding banging on the door. Daniel's nerves would be jangled enough. 

Once every minute, he rapped on the door until it finally opened. 

Jack stepped inside, shut and locked the door and followed Daniel into the living room. He handed his host a bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey, one of the best, and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. 

Daniel's hair was wet, his eyes red and puffy. He'd been in the shower, maybe crying. He still didn't look Jack in the face, nor did he speak; he just accepted the bottle and went into the kitchen for a pair of glasses, handing Jack one of them when he returned to the living room. 

Jack took a leap of faith, hoping he'd read Daniel right. 

"I can give you what you need." 

Daniel's head came up and he made brief, alarmed eye contact. Then he looked sharply away, his chin dipping down again, guilt and refusal to acknowledge the truth written all over his face. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

Ignoring that denial, Jack plowed onward. "I can do it without leaving a mark. It doesn't have to be regular, or anything. Just when you want it. No one has to know." He glanced down at the carpet, suddenly interested in the texture of the fibers. "That room we were in. It taught me some things I didn't know about myself. I apparently…" He cleared his throat nervously. 

This wasn't going to be easy. 

Jack closed his eyes, picturing Daniel naked, hands bound behind him, helpless and obedient on his knees. Jack's mouth went dry and he turned his head, trying to mentally edge past those dangerous, sexy thoughts. "I have needs, too. Things I want to… explore. Maybe we can help each other out." 

Daniel's white-knuckled grip on the neck of the whiskey bottle relaxed. He fiddled ineffectively with the wrapping around the cork, then finally set it down unopened on the coffee table along with his glass. He wiped his palms against his jeans, his gaze crawling slowly back toward his friend's face. 

"It's not what you think," Daniel whispered, obviously trying not to look either interested or hopeful, and failing miserably. 

"I'm not judging you," Jack assured him gently. "We both learned lessons in that room, Daniel, and we can let it destroy our friendship, or we can let it bring us closer. I'm opting for getting closer. How 'bout you?" He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, fingers wrapping around the other items he had purchased. 

Daniel's gaze turned distant, his voice soft and far away. "You a fan of Neitzsche?" 

"I've read a little, yeah. _'That which doesn't kill us,'_ and all that." 

Nodding, Daniel added, " _'_ _He who fights monsters must take care, lest he become a monster. When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.'_ We fight monsters, Jack. We look into the abyss every day." 

The meaning was pretty plain. Daniel was afraid of this part of himself. It showed in his wide, troubled eyes as he turned them finally, fully on Jack's face. 

"I won't let you go anywhere I can't go with you," Jack promised. "Any time you want to stop, you know the safe word." 

"I knew all this was in the shadows, waiting for me. I don't want to become something twisted and ugly. I don't want to become a monster." Daniel's eyes were haunted and sad. "But you're right. I need…" He shook his head, unable to frame his desire in words. 

For Daniel, the linguist, that spoke volumes. 

Jack nodded. "We go slowly. We take our time. We stay together." He swallowed hard. "Maybe sometimes we switch roles. I think I might need that, now and again. Today was… hot." 

Daniel shook his head and glanced away. "I can't do what I did in that room, ever again." 

"If I need it, you will," Jack told him firmly, stepping closer, his voice a low growl of expectation. "There are some orders you'll obey without question, or you'll pay for your disobedience." 

The other man's breath caught. He looked sideways at Jack's chest. "Can you really do it without marking me?" 

"Unless you want to be marked. And sometimes I'll want to do that, too. I'll want to see evidence that I was there." He pulled the nipple clips out of his pocket and held them up for his lover to see. 

Daniel made a noise low in his throat, something in between a groan of arousal and a whine of need. 

Jack crossed the space between them and kissed Daniel then because he wasn't good with words, and as much as Daniel thrived on language to communicate, what he needed now was touch, the comfort of closeness to heal the damage done to him by the devastating experience that they had shared. 

Jack smiled a little against Daniel's hair as he held him afterward. "You were right about pain, Danny. It made me cross a line I couldn't step over any other way. A line I _wanted_ to cross." 

He pulled back just enough to look into the blue again, letting himself fall, not afraid of hitting bottom. 

Daniel was staring at him, his eyes filled with hope he dared not have, obviously trying hard to deny. "It really was just me, then?" 

Jack felt his grin widen and a sense of peace suffuse through his whole tired, abused body.

"Yeah, Daniel. It was." 

He nodded and swept down for another kiss, soul-deep, letting his lips and tongue tell his linguist lover in the only way he knew, that they were going to be all right, and that whatever lay ahead of them, they'd face it together, one step at a time. 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> A multitude of thanks to WordGeek and crownglass39 for their support, encouragement and suggestions, and for holding my hands while I went to this dark place. No beta work was done, so I own all the mistakes.


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